


We've always been a disaster

by Colourcodedbinders



Series: Forever-Stylez [1]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: A disaster wedding aka my favorite trope ever, Amy is done with everything, Fluff, Humor, I'm Bad At Tagging, Rosa is a good friend, Wedding, a total trainwreck, for sure, i guess?, it's bad don't read it, so is Gina surpringly, this i can guarantee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 11:59:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12887403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colourcodedbinders/pseuds/Colourcodedbinders
Summary: In less than two hours, she will be Jake Peralta's wife. She'll walk down the aisle alongside both her parents and then grab Jake's hand as he reaches out to her, promising him that she'll never, ever let go. She'll read him her vows and slip a band onto his finger, and it'll be the best moment of her entire life.Or at least, theoretically, it's supposed to be. It doesn't exactly look like it'll be that way, right now.In less than two hours, Amy Santiago is about to get married, and yet here she is, no flowers and no bridal party.ORIt's May 15th, 2018, and everything that can go wrong, will go wrong.





	We've always been a disaster

**Author's Note:**

> Heya! I've been working on this baby for a couple of weeks, and finished it about ten minutes ago. 
> 
> It started off as a cute, 100 or so word idea, but as you can imagine, I went a little overboard. And, little disclaimer, the writing drastically diminishes in quality towards the end, mostly because I lost inspiration at times, but overall, I'm proud of this thing. 
> 
> It took three internet searches, four entire wedding playlists on Youtube, and maybe three different ranting sessions with @sadtiagos to get this done, but at last, here it freaking is. 
> 
> Inspired by the following post on tumblr;  
> http://sargsantiago.tumblr.com/post/166691478917/the-story-of-the-peraltiago-wedding-picture
> 
> Also this isn't proofread because it is currently 12:58 am okay bye.

It's May 15th, 2018, and in less than two hours, Amy Santiago is about to get married.

In less than two hours, she's about to be bound, legally and forever, to the man she loves unconditionally, endlessly, selflessly. To her best friend in the world, her light in the dark, her splotch of vibrantly colored gouache on a gloomy, monochromatic painting.

In less than two hours, she will be Jake Peralta's wife. She'll walk down the aisle alongside both her parents and then grab Jake's hand as he reaches out to her, promising him that she'll never, ever let go. She'll read him her vows and slip a band onto his finger, and it'll be the best moment of her entire life.

Or at least, theoretically, it's supposed to be. It doesn't exactly look like it'll be that way, right now.

In less than two hours, Amy Santiago is about to get married, and yet here she is, no flowers and no bridal party.

"Stop thinking. You're driving me nuts," Rosa admonishes as she curls a strand of the bride’s hair. "It'll work out."

"How?" Amy exclaims, legs bouncing up and down in nervousness. "The florist just straight up refused to deliver the flowers! I don't care if you went bankrupt, I paid a deposit. I'm getting married!"

"Calm down, princess," Gina sighs, firmly tilting Amy's face upwards as she applies foundation onto it. "No one'll notice a couple of missing bouquets."

"I don't even have a throwing bouquet, Gina."

"Don't move your face, you wrench! You'll ruin my art. I can’t believe I left my child with a babysitter to help your ungrateful ass."

Amy rolls her eyes but keeps her mouth shut, mentally replaying her last phone call with her best friend..

“Are you absolutely sure you can't make it?” she’d whined to Kylie upon arriving at the venue at noon, pacing back and forth as her two other friends exasperatedly watched her freak out.

“You know I can't. Work emergency. Sorry. I hate everything.”

Amy had groaned as she’d hung up, then proceeding to call her mom and asking why she wasn’t there yet. Camila had answered saying that they were stuck in traffic and hung up only after profusely apologizing to her daughter.

Her family still hasn’t arrived, almost two hours later, and Kylie? Kylie’s still a traitor, and all Amy can do about it is try not to cry as she patiently waits for Gina to lift her hands off of her face.

Gina does, true to herself, not do what Amy wishes she would. In fact, even when Rosa's done with her hair, having carefully pinned it up into a rolled bun, Gina's still working, applying lord knows how much eyeliner onto her.

It takes maybe another five minutes before Gina's proudly laughing at the sight before her and moving from in front of Amy, leaving the latter a clear, unobstructed view of herself in the mirror.

When her eyes meet their reflection, Amy thinks she goes breathless for a moment. (Look at her, she's using clichés. But then again, anyone who could see her right now would do the same.) 

Her eyes widen slightly as she takes her reflection in, a soft, inaudible gasp escaping her lips as she attempts to thank her (present) bridesmaids for what they've done to her.

The only word Amy can use to describe herself in this moment is glowing.

"Close your mouth," Gina teases then, "you'll suck in some evil fire demon."

"I, uh, th-thank you. So much."

"Hey, if we don't make sure our friend looks spotless on her wedding day, then who will?" Gina says then, displaying a rare sentiment of kindness as she looks up and reaches to give Rosa a high-five. "Although you can not refer to yourself as my friend in public from this moment onward. Ever. Or else."

"Get up," the taller woman says then, "let's put that dress on you so I can make fun of it."

She says it with a tiny smirk, and it hits Amy right in the heart, like a fiery ball of warmth and happiness and everything good in the world, that she loves her friends more than words can express.

She gets up and off of her seat, giddily smiling as Rosa brings the dress towards her, gently holding it as she nods for Gina to help the sergeant get out of the bathrobe she's donning. 

Gina complies, gently placing her hand on Amy’s arm as the bride unties the silk robe her (traitorous) best friend had bought her for the occasion. Right as she's about to slide it off her shoulders, however, the large room’s door makes noise. There's an audible squeak as the doorknob turns, and the next thing they know, Charles is screaming, shielding his eyes as Rosa defensively steps in front of the bride.

"Boyle, what the hell?"

"I'm sorry, I just needed to talk to Amy!"

"Talk to her after she's changed, asshat."

"It's important!" he insists, and, tying her robe up again, Amy unconvincingly smiles as she places a delicate hand on Rosa's shoulder and steps forward, heart frantically beating as she prepares to hear what her friend has to say.

"What happened?" 

"They, uh, there was an accident on the highway?"

"Okay?" 

He sighs. "And the caterer called Jake. He's on that highway. Says it's a parking lot up there. The food won't be here for another two hours."

"What?" Amy yells, "but the guests are coming in," she looks around for her phone, grabbing it from on top of the dresser she's been provided and glancing at the screen, "in an hour and a half!"

She can feel herself slipping away, her breaths shortening and her fingers quivering as clenches and unclenches her fists in the rhythmic, methodical way she knows will calm her down. Her eyes are watering, because now she's got no maid of honor, no flowers, and no food, either, and the best day of her life is so, so close to turning into a disastrous nightmare. 

Gina's the one who brings her back, with a hard clamp between the shoulder blades in what was probably supposed to be a soothing gesture.

"You're an idiot," she says to Charles then, "stressing us out like that for no reason."

"But, the food..."

"Is something that no guest will worry about until well after the ceremony, boy."

"Gina's right," Rosa agrees, "by the time you guys are done reading your super long, super annoying vows, the food'll be here. There's nothing to worry about. And if it isn’t, then your guests can deal with it like grown ups and suck it."

"But what about the hors d'oeuvres?" Amy manages in a small voice.

"Are you seriously worrying about those stupid vanilla icing-filled donut holes Jake wanted to serve the guests?" 

"He really wants it to happen," she defends, ignoring Rosa's unimpressed glare.

"Well, uh, do they have a kitchen here?" Charles asks.

Amy nods. "There's a cafeteria."

"There's a grocery store nearby," he explains to her, "I saw it when we were driving down. If I go and get the ingredients right now I can probably get your holes done before the guests get here."

"There are two hundred donut holes to make, Charles."

"Oh, don't worry. Genevieve and I are fast bakers. We'll fill your holes before you even know it, Amy."

He leaves before she can thank him. Or warn him not to put anything in the donuts that should not go in donuts. Either way.

She must still look insure, because Rosa calmly eyes her as she speaks.

"If there's one thing you can trust that wimp with, it's food. Don't worry about it. He'll make your husband's donuts."

Amy smiles and nods. She knows Charles wouldn't disappoint her, not unless there really isn't another way out. She trusts him like a short, white, weird brother.

She slowly unties her robe again and lets it fall to the ground, graciously accepting her friends' help as they help her into her dress. 

She slips into it and is about to walk up to the mirror when the door swings open again. (Curse this recs center for not having locks on any of the doors.)

This time, however, the disturbance is not Charles, but rather some company that's more... welcome in this situation.

It's Amy's bridal party. Or the rest of it, really. (Minus Kylie. Kylie still abandoned her. Bad Kylie.)

Camila Santiago walks in, arms extended as she pulls her daughter into a delicate hug, followed by Amy's three sister-in-laws, Praise, Mariana, and Andrea.

The three women immediately embrace Amy in turn, eyes appreciatively roaming over her frame as they compliment Rosa and Gina's handy work.

"Sorry, honey," her mother says to her, "we would've been here earlier but there was just so much traffic, you know? Your father’s so sorry. It’s the first time he’s ever been late."

"It's okay, mom."

"Anyway, your brothers have gone to see the groom. I can't believe this is really happening."

"They've only been talking about it since Halloween," Rosa says then, much to the displeasure of Camila, who turns to glare at the cop. Rosa, naturally, does not care.

"Oh, Amy," Andrea says with a wide smile, trying to diffuse the tension, "Do you have any idea how gorgeous you freaking are right now?"

The sergeant blushes and shakes her head, gaze held low. In the excitement of her family coming in, she hadn't had the chance to look at herself.

But she has the chance now, and holy hell, the woman in the mirror is breathtaking. It takes Amy a couple of seconds to even believe that she's seeing herself in that piece of glass, looking like a thousand bucks.

Her dress isn't too fancy, a long-sleeved sheath gown with a floral sheer overlay, one that reaches to the ground but doesn't exactly drag behind her as she walks. It had called to her in the boutique, something about it making her feel as though, somehow, the dress was tailored for her and her only.

As she looks at herself right now, Amy knows this for a fact. This dress was always meant to be hers.

The girls on the room are all still fawning over Amy when a loud knock resounds from the door.

Finally someone who knocks, Amy thinks, before hurriedly making her way to the door, followed by Praise and Rosa. She knows who it is before she even reaches for the knob.

"Yes, Captain?" she asks, pulling on the door.

It swings open, revealing Captain Holt and Terry, looking slightly apologetic. 

"What's going on? Is everything alright? Is Jake doing okay?" 

"Jacob is doing just fine," the Captain says, glancing over at Terry, seemingly wanting him to say whatever they've come to tell Amy.

The Sergeant, however, does not take notice of Holt's gaze, as his own is fixed on Amy, his eyes watering, and before either of them knows it, he's pulling Amy into a hug.

"You look beautiful," he whispers to her as she brings her hands up to hug him back. "Terry's proud of you. So proud."

"Thank you, Terry," she answers back, gathering all the strength she has in her to hold in her own happy tears as pulls back. "What did you want to tell me?"

"Oh," Terry sombers up, as though just remembering what brought him here in the first place. "About that. You know the band you hired? With the piano and all?"

"Yeah?"

"Well..."

"Well?"

"Well..."

"Well, what?"

"Well, Sergeant," Holt supplies for a clearly uncomfortable Terry, "The fact that Terry is trying to inform you of is that your hired band is unfortunately unable to perform."

"What? Why?"

"Their pianist got arrested for aggravated assault on a minor."

"And then the guitarist decided to boycott all cops to protest his friend's arrest."

And all that Amy can manage in reply to that is:

"Oh."

Before she can even think of having a nervous meltdown, her sister-in-law Mariana has a soft hand on her shoulder, rubbing the other up and down her arm. 

"Stop stressing her out, Terrence," Gina warns, "You don't want pit stains on her dress. That stuff is nasty."

"Is there any way we can fix the problem?" Mariana asks.

"Well, it's no band, but Sharon's got a friend down here who plays the harp. Terry was wondering if you'd be okay with letting her perform with me while I play the piano."

"You play the piano?" Rosa questions, walking over to stand right behind Amy.

"Beautifully," Terry answers, mildly defensive.

She takes a step forward, then, walking over to stand right in front of the older sergeant's face, and whispers, threateningly: "Then you go out there with your little harp bitch and you play the hell out of those strings. But if I hear even a single key being off, Sarge, you are going to regret this forever. And I will find out; I took classical music lessons for four horrible years."

"Alright! Damn, Rosa."

The detective watches the two men as they hurriedly make their way out of the room, turning back to face the women. Somehow, even the floral, royal blue gown she's got on her doesn't diminish how intimidating she looks.

"Any problems having to do with this wedding go through me and Gina before they get to Amy. All your useless little troubles are freaking her out."

Gina steps forward.

"If this woman stresses out without reason once more before she’s at that altar, we will destroy you," she adds, ignoring the dirty looks she receives from, you know, Amy's relatives, who are probably wondering why they're being told to back down from their bride by her co-workers.

Nonetheless, they listen and nod. There really is no arguing with the powerful force of nature that is a Diaz-Linetti team up.

Nothing much happens after that, aside from the usual hectic event that is six women trying to get their last touches of makeup on before the vows, until Amy's cell phone rings from on the dresser.

Her hand is swatted away by Rosa when she tries to reach for it.

"Everything goes through me or Gina," she warns, before bringing the phone up to her ear and answering the call.

Her expression is painfully stoic during the whole ordeal, and it's only making Amy more nervous, now that she doesn't have any idea what in the world is supposed to be going on with her wedding. At least, before, she knew that things were going bad.

When Rosa hangs up the call, her eyes meeting Amy's curious ones, she pulls her to the side of the room, away from the others.

"Did you guys remember to change the delivery address for the cake?"

"What?"

"When you changed venues. From the mansion. Did you change the delivery address for your wedding cake?"

Amy vigorously nods. "Jake and I called every single vendor as soon as we booked this place."

"Apparently not this one."

There's a short silence between the two women, before Amy tentatively whispers.

"Please don't tell me that they delivered Nakatomi to the Vulture's party."

"They delivered Nakatomi to the Vulture's party."

"Come on!" Amy yells out, catching the attention of everyone in the room. "Really?"

"What's wrong?" Her mother asks, worried, as she makes her way to her, placing both hands on her daughter's shoulders. 

"They delivered the cake to the wrong venue, Ma."

The bride doesn't exactly see it, what with her eyes being closed to better deal with her stress and all, but she's sure that her mother and best friend (best friend besides Kylie, whom she is still mad at, by the way,) have reached some sort of silent, mental agreement because soon enough, her mother's dragging Praise with her towards the cafeteria as she yells out that Karen better have great icing skills if this cake is ever going to happen.

And in that moment, while she watches her mother drag her sister-in-law out of the room by the arm as Gina, Mariana and Andrea watch on while Rosa texts Charles to get extra ingredients, it dawns on Amy that even though her wedding seems to be on the brink of disaster, there hasn't been a moment in her entire life when she's felt this fortunate. 

She really, really loves these people. 

(She’s also really, really close to start swearing at each and every one of her vendors, but that’s another thing entirely.)

She takes a seat on her chair in front of the dresser, her bridesmaids coming in to gather around her. 

"It's stressful, eh?" Mariana asks, laughing.

"A little."

"It'll be worth it," her eldest sister-in-law reassures, taking Amy's right hand in her own. "You'll walk down that aisle and get married to your guy and as soon as it's done, you'll see that all the stupid overwhelming stress was worth it. Always is."

Amy smiles back at her, sighing a little. She'd only been twenty when Danny and Mary had gotten married, just a beat cop at the time. A low ranking officer at the seven-eight, with a boyfriend she had sworn she was in love with that lasted only about a year. And here she is today, Sergeant Amy Santiago, working at the NineNine and a mere few minutes away from getting married to the world's biggest loser.

So much has changed in the past fifteen years it blows her mind a little.

"You were my youngest bridesmaid," Mariana says, pulling her out of her reverie, "and I think I'm your oldest. Pretty cool, right?" 

"You're only seven years older than I am."

"Seven whole years, Amy." 

The women get back into the groove of things then, those who aren’t getting ready themselves taking turns talking to Amy in order to keep her from losing her mind, all while Rosa glares at Amy’s phone, as if daring it to ring with more bad news.

And then it happens again. The stupid door squeaks wide open, and Amy sees her sister-in-laws tense when a flash of black and white appears from behind it.

(Now, look, Amy may not be superstitious, but her family is entirely comprised of nut jobs that'd sooner cancel the wedding than let Jake see her before the ceremony.)

Luckily, the tux she'd seen through the door was not her fiancé, but rather her younger brother, Joseph. 

"Amy, you need to move. Now," is all he says to her before he's got his arms on her shoulders, leading her out of the room she's in and towards the cafeteria. 

"You got her?" Danny yells out, running towards them as they walk, panting once he's slowed down next to them.

"Yeah," Jo answers, "where's Chipotle?" 

"Manuel's got him cornered."

"Why do you have him cornered?" Amy asks as Jo opens the large doors to the cafeteria, leading her inside, where she's met by the Boyles, her mother, Karen, and her sister-in-law, who are all still baking, "He has a wedding to be at, soon." 

"The boy wanted to see you, Mija," her father says then, walking into the cafeteria, followed by her brother Tyler and his husband Jason. "Couldn't let him do that. It's bad luck."

"Why does he want to see me?"

"Guess you'll have to wait to find out," Jason says with a slight smile, playfully punching her on the arm. 

"Chipotle has the rest of his life to talk to you. He can deal with Manny for another thirty minutes," Tyler adds.

"You've got to stop calling him that."

"You wish, Mrs. Chipotle."

"It was once!"

"Accidentally trashing a Chipotle is usually a one-time occurrence, Amy," her brother Liam's girlfriend Alya adds. 

"Not for Jake."

Suddenly, Manuel runs into the room, frantic. 

"I lost Chipotle."

"How?"

"You said you had him cornered?"

"Tell Paul to check his area."

"We lost the groom?"

“This is so cool.”

The cafeteria erupts into chaos, the only comprehensible thing happening amidst the loud noise and constant moving being the fact that Amy sees Charles and Genevieve walking out of the cafeteria, four trays full of donut holes in hand. 

Amy tries to give them a thumbs up as a way of thanks, but before she has the opportunity, Paul, Liam, and David are running into the cafeteria and slamming the doors shut, before standing in front of them, forming a barricade of sorts.

"Chipotle's gone to her dressing room," David announces, nodding towards his sister, "I told Andrea to slow him down."

"We just need to keep him there for another half an hour."

"I can't believe we had to kidnap Amy from her own wedding party. Epic."

"It's not epic, Tyler. It's a crisis avoided."

And again, Amy feels her breaths shortening, and her hands are back into fists, her eyes closed as she tries to think of something, anything, other than the fact that Jake may seriously need to talk to her and here she is, locked in a holy heckin' cafeteria by her entire family. She reaches down to her waist, almost on instinct, looking for her phone, and is hugely disappointed when she’s reminded that she has no pockets and that her phone is still on the stupid dressing table from when Rosa’d taken it away.

"The cake is baked!" her mother exclaims a couple of minutes later.

"Not now, Mom," she snaps. "Right now is not the time to worry about cake."

Camila closes her mouth, her smile faltering, but begins spreading icing on the cake nonetheless, making sure to avoid eye contact with the bride.

"Al," Amy says, walking up to Liam and his girlfriend, "Please give me your phone for a second."

"No can do, gorgeous," the woman replies, "it's a tradition."

"It's a superstition," Amy groans under her breath, and reluctantly takes a seat on one of the tables, putting her head between her hands as she exhales deeply.

And then someone bangs on the cafeteria doors.

It isn't a knock, like the Captain's. It's an obvious slamming of hands against the old, ugly doors, an act of impatience and desperation on such a caliber that only the real Jake Peralta can achieve, as far as Amy knows.

Her relatives are quick to make their way to the blue doors, holding onto the handles with all their might to prevent Jake from getting in. 

Oh, this is ridiculous. 

"Let him in," the woman says to her brothers, walking up to stand right in front of the oldest one, her gaze never leaving Danny's face as she brings her arms up to cross them in an attempt to look more intimidating.

This, naturally, does not work, and Danny's laughing in her face as he tells her that she can only dream.

"He clearly has something important to say," she argues.

"Chipotle can wait -"

"Let. Him. In."

She tries to be stern, tries to scare her brother into moving away, and her blood boils when he simply looks at her, a smirk upon his face as he gleefully shakes his head.

"Tradition, Amy."

"My foot up your ass, Daniel."

Her brother is in the midst of forming a reply when a loud bang resounds from behind him and he stumbles forward. 

"What the?"

There's another bang, this one louder, and several of the people barricading the doors are forced to move out of their positions again. With the doors now less crowded, Amy fights her way to them and swings them open, revealing a frustrated Terry, a disheveled Jake, and a thoroughly pissed off Rosa on the other side.

"What the hell, Santiago? The guests are about to show up and you're hiding in the stupid kitchen."

"Why is he here?" Paul asks then, pointing at Jake.

"Because he is. Buzz off, idiot."

"Don't call Paulie an idiot!" Tyler interjects.

"Don't call me Paulie."

"Shut up, I'm defending your honor."

"Right, go ahead."

"The next person who speaks is Gina's personal assistant for the rest of the day. Or gets punched in the throat. Either way works," Rosa says then, successfully shutting everyone up. Then, a little quieter, "Jake?"

Jake shakes his head just slightly, as if coming out of a trance, and it hits Amy for the first time that he's probably just as stressed out about the entire ordeal as she is. It takes her all of her might not to run over and wrap him in her arms so that he can rest his head on her shoulder and breathe, her hands running through his hair as his rest on the small of her back.

"Jake?" Terry says again, placing a large hand on the detective's shoulder. 

"Right, uh, Amy," Jake manages, looking at her, "you need to come with me."

"Why?"

"I'll show you," he says right as her dad utters an intimidating "She will go nowhere."

"Dad," she pleads, "let him talk, okay?" Then, moving her gaze along to look at all of her relatives present in the room, "I know it's against tradition, but the man's clearly worried about something."

"He can talk to you lat-"

"Zip it, Manuel."

She's stomping outside the cafeteria faster than she'd known she was capable of in her long dress and long heels after that, grabbing Jake's hand as she pulls him away from her nosy family.

"What's going on? Are you okay?" 

“Follow us,” is all he says before grabbing her arm and gently pulling her down the wide hall and towards the basketball court.

“You might want to stay here,” he mumbles before pushing the wide doors to the gym open, and Amy’s pretty sure she’s about to yell when she takes in the sight before her.

The basketball court, the place her altar was supposed to be, the place where she was supposed to be reading her vows to Jake, where she was supposed to become his wife, is entirely submerged in nearly an inch of water.

“There was a plumbing problem, apparently,” Jake explains to her, “and unless you’ve always dreamed of getting married on a swimming pool like I have, we’re going to have to figure this out.”

“Gina and Charles had said that they might have an idea,” Terry says from behind her, a beautiful blonde woman standing next to him. “And Amy, this is the harpist. Joanna. Joanna, this is Amy.”

“Hi,” Joanna says, shaking Amy’s hand, “I hope it works out for you guys.” She vaguely gestures at the court, shrugging a little. “I know this isn’t ideal.”

Amy can’t do much other than nod, and Joanna gives her a last reassuring smile before turning to introduce herself to Jake, who flashes her a charming smile of his own. 

As soon as she’s out of earshot, he leans down to whisper in Amy’s ear. 

“She’s almost as hot as you are.”

This earns him a nice, hard smack on the chest, and he laughs as he puts his arm around Amy’s shoulder and pulls her into him.

“Where are Charles and Gina?” she asks him then, looking around, “Terry said they might have had an idea.”

“We’re over here, losers,” Gina’s voice rings from behind them, then, and she motions for them to follow her outside.

The parking lot, they notice, that has been emptied of cars and filled with chairs.

At the far end of the lot, Amy can see Captain Holt and Charles setting up a last-minute chuppah, with Nikolaj helping Hitchcock and Scully set up the table, where Genevieve’s put her four trays worth of donut holes next to the seating chart someone’s wheeled out.

Terry and Joanna walk out with their instruments, setting everything up to the altar’s left, and Camila then walks out with Karen and Praise, simply but elegantly designed cafeteria-made cake in tow.

Everything would have been perfect were it not for the fact that they’re expecting guests in less than ten minutes now, and that Amy’s pretty sure that big grey blob in the sky is a storm cloud.

“Gina?” she asks, awkwardly pointing at the grey patch in the sky.

“Don’t worry about it,” Gina says, following Amy’s gaze with her own, “It’s just a harmless fluffy.” She then tugs on Jake’s arm with force, separating him from Amy, and shoos him away in a swift, dismissive hand gesture.

“Your groomsmen await.”

“My groomsmen basically held my bride hostage in a cafeteria so that I wouldn’t get to her.”

“I’ll have someone talk to them, babe. They won’t be annoying you anymore. Trust me. Mama Linetti’s got your back.”

With that, she grabs Jake’s hand and walks him inside.

Amy stands there for another couple of seconds, wearily watching the storm cloud above, before a firm hand on her arm pulls her back down.

“Let’s go,” Rosa says to her, “We can’t have the bride be out here before the guests are.”

She said it in true Rosa fashion, completely stoic and not even a hint of emotion in her tone, and yet the simple sentence has Amy overcoming with affection for her friend, and before she knows what’s happening, her mouth finds a way to speak.

“You want to be my maid of honor?”

Rosa loosens her grip on Amy’s arm just slightly, but other than that, there is no indication she’s even heard what Amy’s said.

“I mean,” Amy tries to rectify, “you don’t have to, if you don’t want. But you’ve basically been doing it all day anyway. Coordinating everything, helping me dress, keeping me sane.”

The two women stare at each other in silence.

“All you’d have to do is basically walk down alone and stand next to me at the altar. Maybe give a toast at the reception? You know I was going to have Kylie do it, but she cancelled and you’re like my second best friend and I’m sorry if this is weird for you but-”

“Dope.”

“Huh?”

Rosa smiles slightly, and if Amy weren’t standing so close to her, she’s convinced she wouldn’t have seen it.

“I’ll be your dumb maid of honor, idiot.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

“Now move your ass and come inside.”

Amy does as ordered, and in the next ten minutes, everything gets done (surprisingly) without major disaster.

Amy still doesn’t have flowers, her food hasn’t arrived, she broke a sacred tradition (superstition) and Kylie’s ditched her, but overall, she thinks she’ll be able to make it.

She’ll be able to make it because her best friends have saved her wedding, whether it be by baking two-hundred donut holes, replacing the band, or even moving the entire wedding out to the parking lot.

Oh, and her mom (and future mother-in-law) baked and decorated an entire cake in under an hour and a half, so that’s pretty cool, too.

The guests have rolled in, the canopy has been set up, the donut holes have been distributed, and for a beautiful moment, everything is perfect.

She hears the crowd abruptly going silent as her brothers presumably make their way down the aisle, the only sound reverberating through the lot being the beautiful melodies Terry and Joanna play, and she hopes, she hopes to God that someone is recording Charles as he follows them. She can’t see him from where she’s standing, but she’s convinced he’s got at least one tear on his face. Or a couple dozen. Either way, she wants to see it later.

She hears her brothers cheering loudly and assumes that it can only be because her fiance is being escorted to the altar, Karen and Roger by his side.

Her sister-in-laws take a deep breath before walking down towards the chuppah (which was beautifully decorated, by the way), alongside Gina, and Rosa pulls Amy so that she’s standing outside the center, out of view but close enough that if she leans just a bit to the side, she can see some of her brothers.

“Before I go do the walk of shame,” Rosa says to her then, “You’re one of my closest friends, too.”

A beat passes.

“Now shut up and forget this ever happened.” 

The women turn around when they hear Gina’s cheer at the end of the aisle, and the maid of honor takes this as her cue to walk on. She turns back and looks at Amy one last time, nodding slightly. 

“Let’s go get you married.”

The next few seconds are a blur. One moment, Rosa’s turning away from her, making her way through the crowd, and the next, her mother’s grabbing her arm and practically pushing her to the end of the aisle as her father joins them, taking his position on her free side. 

She’s only vaguely aware of Nikolaj, Ava, Cagney, and Lacey making their way to the altar, her sights focused on her destination under the canopy, on her future husband, who’s looking at her like she’s all he sees, as well.

He’s got a bright smile on his face when her parents let go of her, handing her off to him, and for a quick second, Amy forgets that she’s standing at her wedding altar, the only thing on her mind being Jake. Jake. Jake.

Of course, she forgets only for a second, because the next, when Charles whispers her name, giving her a thumbs up, a glass ready for Jake in his hand, and Captain Holt’s voice as he calls out their names, it all becomes unbelievably real to her. She’s about to get married.

The Captain has only strung together two sentences of his meticulously written speech when Tyler slaps Daniel, who in turn slaps him back.

“What the hell, dude?”

“You spat on me!”

“Why would I - ”

He’s cut off by Jake’s yelp at the sight of lightning striking in the distance, and right at Rosa begins laughing at him, thunder rumbles overhead, and it begins raining.

“No problem, guys!” Charles yells out in an attempt to calm the guests. “It’s just a drizzle. It’ll be over before we know it.” 

And, of course, because the world hates Amy Santiago, the drizzle-that-was-clearly-never-just-a-drizzle turns into a full-blown thunderstorm right under (above?) their eyes, and soon enough, everyone’s getting up and off their seats to run into the building.

“Don’t go onto the court,” Jake jokes, grabbing Amy’s arm as she turns around to follow the crowd.

“Jake?” she questions, confused, “Let’s go inside.”

“But we’re not married yet!”

“We’re soaking wet! The canopy is probably about to collapse, and - and there’s no one officiating!”

Jake smiles at her, placing both hands on her shoulders to hold her in place as he leans to the side, towards where all of their guests have just run off.

“Charles!” he expectantly yells out.

Of course, surprising no one, Charles emerges from inside the recs center and answers.

“Yes, Buddy-O?”

“Can you call the Captain out?”

Amy isn’t too sure, but she thinks Charles nods as he runs back in through the door. As soon as he’s out of sight, she turns back to face Jake.

“Are you insane?”

“-ly in love with you, yes.”

“Jake, this entire day has been a disaster. Maybe we should just postpone the wedding.”

Jake stares at her for a second, almost as if he can’t believe she would even suggest such a thing.

“Are you cancelling our wedding while it’s happening, Santiago?”

“It’s not happening, babe. That’s the entire problem. Let’s go inside, we’ll get sick.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong, Ames. Sure, the world’s being a dick, but that doesn’t mean the wedding shouldn’t happen.”

He brings his hands down to hold hers.

“Amy Santiago, listen to me, okay?”

Amy slowly nods, slightly shaking, eyes focused on his.

“Ames, we’ve been a disaster from the start. I confessed to you before joining the mafia, and found out that you liked me through your ex. We killed a man, I had to go to Florida, your ex proposed to you in front of my face - total dick move, by the way - and then I went to jail. My point is, disasters have never stopped us, right? So why let them now? Besides, this’ll make a great story for our kids. We’ll call it ‘The Day Everything Went Wrong’.”

Amy must have been completely entranced by his short speech, because by the time he’s done, she looks around to see that the both of them are completely surrounded by their friends, along with two of Amy’s brothers. Captain is standing under a small, black umbrella, with Paul and Liam on either side him. 

“Couldn’t miss your wedding, big sis. Mom said we were being dumb are were going to get sick. Totally worth it.”

“Totally. Also, sorry for kidnapping your wife, bro,” Liam says to Jake, “but it was pretty epic.”

Jake nods in agreement to that, fist-bumping her brother, and next to him, sobbing loudly, is Charles. He tries to say something to her, but can barely form a coherent word, so she takes a step forward and wraps him in a hug. He responds with enthusiasm, and Amy’s sure that if it weren’t pouring rain, his tears would have soaked her dress through.

She sees Gina standing to her opposite side when she pulls back, donning a bright, blue raincoat she probably had somewhere in her purse, right next to Terry, who isn’t crying quite as loudly as Charles, but is damn close. 

And, standing right behind the bride, is Rosa, soaking wet but pretending she doesn’t notice it.

“I was supposed to be next to you at the altar, right?”

Amy gratefully smiles, warmth blooming in her chest as she takes Jake’s hands in her own and casts a look around, scanning over the faces of some of her favorite people in the entire damn world.

“Alright,” Captain Holt says then, breaking the spell, “I’ll do this as quickly as possible, so as to reduce the likelihood of having any of us wake up with a cold tomorrow.”

Jake looks down at her, eyes bright and hopeful.

“Whadda ya say, Ames? Wanna marry me?”

He’s looking at her with hope in his eyes, as if he thinks that she could ever even think of saying no, and she laughs as she answers.

“No matter what.”

Captain Holt nods at the couple and begins speaking.

“Jake, do you take Amy to be your lawfully wedded wife, to hold and to cherish, in sickness and in -”

“Hellz yeah.”

“Very well. Amy, do you take Jake to be your husband?”

They all turn to look at the older man in anticipation. He sighs.

“To hold and to cherish, in sickness and in -”

“Heavens yes.”

“You’re both being demoted,” the Captain deadpans. “Very well, by the power vested in me by internetministry4cheap.com, and that’s a numerical four, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride, Peralta.”

Jake laughs and leans in, sliding his arms around Amy’s waist, only to be interrupted by Charles.

“The rings! Jake, the rings!” He reaches into his pockets and produces to matching silver bands, handing them over to the couple. “I took them from Niko.”

Jake and Amy share a look before taking the bands from their friend, taking turns sliding them onto each other’s fingers.

“Didn’t get to tell you today,” Jake whispers as he puts the band on her, “but you are the most beautiful person I have ever laid eyes on.”

“More than Joanna?” she teases.

“I told you right away that she doesn’t reach your level.”

“Guys,” Charles whispers, leaning forward so that his head is in between theirs, “I’m so proud of us.”

“Charles.”

“Right. Save it for the toast. Gotcha.”

“Can we kiss now,” Jake asks, looking around, “or does anyone have anything to add?”

Their friends shrug, silent, and Jake nods and places his hands on Amy’s back.

“Alright -”

“The glass!” Charles scream out,, apologetically smiling in response to everyone’s frustrated groans. “No, nevermind. I left it inside. I’m so sorry, guys.”

“Don’t be,” Jake says to him, and dips his head, pulling his wife into a searing kiss. Amy tilts her head up, bringing her hand up the side of his face, melting into it as the rest of them applaud and cheer.

They’re both shivering when they pull away, although Amy suspects that has more to do with the weather than anything else, and, yeah, Amy thinks, this is definitely the best moment of her life. Disaster and all.

“We’re married,” she says to her husband - husband! - and he pulls her into a long hug, holding her close, whispering in her ear that he’ll never leave her, that he loves her, that she’s perfect.

And even when they have to pull back and run inside, reminded of the fact that they’ve basically signed up for a full day sick in bed, even when Rosa pulls Amy away and helps her change back into her casual outfit, helping her dry her hair, even when Amy shows up to her wedding reception in the cafeteria of a cheap recreational center, underdressed and late, she knows that she’d never give up her disastrous wedding for the one she’s always wanted.

After all, she and Jake? They’ve been a disaster right from the start, and Amy thinks that maybe she’s starting to love disasters a little bit.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you didn't barf! :)
> 
> I'm unfortunately not writing prompts at the time, because I've got exams coming up, but if you wanna leave one in my ask box at colourcodedbinders on tumblr, I'll be sure to get to it as soon as I can. 
> 
> (Also if any of you for a second thought that I would write in a harpist and not call her Joanna, then you are certified insane. You should've known that I was going to do this.)
> 
> Hope you're all having a great day! Let me know what you thought of this trainwreck in the comments. :)


End file.
